Sacred Waters Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    Braydon smelled sausage and bacon and sighed contentedly. His mother was cooking. Without opening his eyes he reveled in the familiarity of being home. Focusing on the distant sounds of his family bustling about below, warmth spread through his chest.
    His smile faltered as the weight of strong arms holding him registered with his brain. That’s not right. He suddenly opened his eyes and jack-knifed off the bed.
    “Get off me, you fucking pervert!”
    “What? We were snuggling,” Kelly complained.
    Braydon groaned. “There’s no way I’m spending another night in here with you.”
    “I think that sassy piece of fluff you brought back from college may have something to say about that.”
    “Her name is Samantha and she’ll get over it. Once she meets Dad and the others and realizes they don’t care about stuff like that she’ll be fine.”
    Kelly laughed and rolled over.
    Braydon frowned. “What’s so funny?”
    “You. I never thought I’d see the day when the golden son couldn’t bed the girl he wanted.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Nah, I’ll just watch you try and fuck Samantha. Has she even let you sample the goods yet, brother? No, don’t answer. I can tell she hasn’t. I suggest you go ask Mum to get you a bag of ice, because I’m guessing your bollocks will be bluer than a smurf’s before you head back to school.”
    Braydon threw a pillow at his younger brother and stomped out into the hall. After using the bathroom he went to his room to retrieve some clothes.
    His fist knocked, but there was no answer so he entered. Samantha’s clothes were set out on the bed and the soft, trickling rush coming from the adjoining bathroom. She was in the shower. He wanted to bridge the gap from the platonic purgatory Sam seemed to be holding them in and move their relationship to the next level.
    He considered popping in on her to see what she’d do, but figured that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him and Sam would likely freak. Rather, he quickly dressed and headed downstairs to join the rest of his relatives.
    As he came down the stairs he heard his younger sister Sheilagh talking. “Well, what does she look like?”
    He paused by the door to the kitchen to see how his mother would answer her question.
    “She’s pretty enough. Plain like. Quiet. I cannot say I see her being right for your brother though.”
    “So you don’t like her.”
    “Now, I did not say that. I like her just fine. She’s polite, Irish, sweet, easy to talk to. I just never imagined Braydon settling with someone like her. She surprised me. That’s all.”
    Braydon shoulders sagged like sails turned out from the wind and betrayed by the weather. He deserved a decent woman and suffered no misconceptions about his appearance. He was tall, fit, heading toward a successful career. Resentment tickled his spine as his confidence wavered.
    “There’s nothing wrong with plain,” he heard his older sister, Kate, declare.
    If ever there were a champion of Braydon’s, Katherine was it.
    “I imagine it would take a simpler kind of girl to leave the city and not be turned off by Center County. It isn’t like we’re anything fancy out here.”
    He wondered at their use of words like “simple” and “plain”. Samantha lacked the lace and frills of most females of his generation, but she was by no means lacking. She was pretty. Of course her type of pretty was inconsistent with what he normally deemed beautiful. Typically he leaned toward leggy blondes. Samantha had a nice set of legs, but he never saw her in any kind of high heels.
    Still, she always looked nice. Samantha was smart and easy to spend time with. She was graduating and becoming an English teacher in the fall. She was wife material. Braydon always imagined he’d meet his wife in college and get married soon after graduation.
    With only a year left to graduate he figured he better start shopping in the wife department. Samantha Dougherty was model wife material. What